


Beheading Dance

by RPGCATZ



Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Body Horror, EMH Reanimated Au, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Many Mentions of Death, Mentions of Habit, Mentions of tall dark and faceless, One day I will write happy Vinny. But that day is Not Today, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Repetition, you know how it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RPGCATZ/pseuds/RPGCATZ
Summary: Skeletons can’t be buried if they’re still covered in flesh,And demons can’t be drowned if they breathe within the same body as your friend.Vinny can’t tell if this is his eternal punishment or his eternal freedom.





	1. Will O’ The Wisp

**Author's Note:**

> Most/all titles are from the fox’s wedding series by Masa.

—1—

Death would have been a release had it not been for the feeling of water pulling in his lungs. 

He wondered if he would float. 

He wondered if the gurgling in his gut was normal, if the pressure in his chest and throat was to be expected. 

He had seen Death come for all he loved, yet none knew who exactly played the role of Death now. 

Was It drowning too? 

It had shed Evan’s body like a second skin, and had crushed not only his left wrist but also his sanity. 

Seeing It’s true form pull the wraps of Evan’s skin off of itself and spew spidery appendages from both sides made a nauseating pressure build in his skull that shoved and cracked at every surface it could reach. It’s body was insanity in the highest forms, and it had plunged both itself and him into the icey depths of the sea. 

In all instances previous, Death had been the very creature that he now stared at from beneath the layers of salty water, but now, he couldn’t tell who or what would play Death next.

If Death could die, who would take them?

His vision was swimming, and so was his body. His glasses were tossed in the impact, and he was pretty sure the last impact on the water’s surface had shattered his spine in some way. 

He was going to die here. 

Perhaps that faceless thing would play Death. 

A part of him wanted to stay awake to find out, but his vision had started darkening, and the pain that was once excruciating now felt like a soft lull of a guardian’s hands dragging softly through his hair, telling him that it’s okay, that he could sleep. 

It sounded so, so real. 

He lets his eyes close against the saltwater of the sea, drowning, bloating, dying.

He hopes that Death is quick.

he tries to ignore the incessant beeping that circles him loudly.

—

He can’t exactly ignore the beeping when it’s the first thing he rrecognizes as an external sound upon opening his eyes.

When he wakes under the uncomfortable and slightly scratchy blankets of a steril white room, the only proof of the last eight years being the cast on his wrist and the bruises blooming from his neck to his midsection under the gown he’s in, he finds he can’t ignore that sound anymore. 

It takes him a moment to collect himself completely, or as fully as he can in his state, and when he does he notices the IV’s and tubes working their ways in and out of his body. 

Eight years ago, the sight of a needle even _near_ an arm would get him squirming, but looking at it then with all he had seen piled up in burning trash bags on his subconscious, it seemed, _unimportant_ to stare at the tubes. 

His head was still hurting, and his ears were ringing gently, but he found almost no pain in any other spot. 

He couldn't see much around the room due to his glasses being thrown elsewhere before the fall, but he could see enough to piece together where he was.

Had It brought him here? 

The bedside table caught his eye. 

It was covered in an array of flowers and small trinkets and gifts. There was a picture frame on the edge closest to him, and he plucked it off with gentle, shaking fingers. 

How long had he been out? 

He turned the picture over, and there, staring back at him were the very people who Death had taken from him. 

With a dawning shock, he realized that the image was fairly recent.

Had Death _actually_ taken them? 

Was the picture just a ruse? 

It had to- 

then he finally caught sight of the note that had been laying behind the picture, and the pair of glasses that was placed on top of it. Inviting, intriguing, horrifying. 

Grabbing the glasses and placing them quickly on his face, he reached for the note with shaking hands. 

He pulled it to himself, glad that the glasses seemed to be his own, and read the lines of text on the paper;

\- Vin, You’re probably very confused. we are too. If you’re reading this and we’re not there, it’s probably late and visiting hours are up, but don’t worry! We’ll be there as soon as we can to come see you if that’s the case! If you wake up and we’re all there with you, then we’ve probably already talked with you but idk. You will get some answers soon, I promise! But I also wanted to remind you that the gang’s all here with me writing this, and that we’re all really hoping that you’ll wake up soon. ~~sorry about the wrist.~~ We love you!!! Get well soon!!!!!!

  love,

     Steph, Jeff, Alex, and Evan!

(We have a surprise for you when you wake up btw!!!!!) 

\- the note was dated as 9/24/18, an old quirk he remembers seeing Steph pick up after too many unconscious days and a blank memory. 

He felt himself slipping into shock, the pressure of insanity building in his skull once more, and the tremor in his hands worsening.

the note was dated the day before according to the room’s digital clock.

The hospital room’s door slid open.

_He hoped Death was quick._


	2. The Spider and the Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // trigger warnings; //  
> •lots of hints to rape/non-con in this one.   
> •more Direct Habit mentions.   
> •mentions of Habit using another person’s body.  
> •bad stuff.   
> •repetition
> 
> Tell me if I missed anything and Please stay safe loves!   
> ——  
> There’s a lot in this suitcase to unpack and if I could throw it out I would.

—2—

It’s hold on his throat is painful. 

He lays in its web. 

Perhaps he should leave? 

He can’t. It hurts. 

His legs are shaky, that thing just stands there. 

The pain in his throat is horrible. 

When did it start? When did it start touching him? When did it start? What is time anymore? 

Its not Evan, it’s someone else. Another body. So many have been used by it. Can it switch bodies? 

Is this the preacher’s body ? 

can it leave? 

He wants to leave. 

He wants to die. He wants to be left alone. 

He doesn’t want it to touch him anymore. 

it hurts. 

Perhaps he should leave? 

Does he even know a choice? Does he even have an option? 

It’s eyes are still purple. It’s hands are still bloody. It’s hand is around his throat. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it. 

It finishes before he does, he doesn’t want to at all. He doesn’t want it. 

He wants to kill it. It hurts. 

He wants to die. It hurts. 

He wants to leave. It Hurts. 

The church is on fire. there is blood on his hands. That Thing stands and watches him. 

It leaves the stranger’s ~~preist’s~~ body.

It drops him somewhere. 

It leaves him somewhere. 

Alone, alone, alone, alone. 

he hates it. 

There is a doctor. ~~Father, father father, father?~~

Perhaps he should leave? 

Perhaps he should get some new clothes?

he wants a shower. 

It hurts. 

He doesn’t like remembering. 

It hurts. 

Perhaps he should leave?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh an explanation;  
> •Vinny is having a memory about Habit using another person to rape/assault him, which is really him just remembering fairmount vin’s memories? I’m not sure. I’m really tired. Sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> As Always,  
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated loves!~


End file.
